


Dream of fire

by silvervelour



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alcohol, F/F, Smut, strap ons!, the Branjie/Trixya foursome that nobody asked for, the tiniest bit of plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 07:57:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19902391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvervelour/pseuds/silvervelour
Summary: Vanessa leaves for the bar and comes back with two drinks in hand. She places them down with a fumbled elegance, directs them towards Trixie and Katya. Brooke welcomes her back with a kiss to her cheek, a hand on her thigh, and then they’re both concentrated.“Me and my girl ‘wanna have a bit of fun-”. Vanessa grins.“-You guys get what I’m sayin’?”.Trixie gets it.Katya gets it, too, but Trixie knows that she won’t give in as easily. She detaches herself from Trixie’s side, leans across the wooden table top with a smirk. Brooke mirrors Katya’s movements like they’re competing, and Trixie’s answer is already yes.





	Dream of fire

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry.
> 
> find me on Tumblr @ silverhytes :))))

It’s suggested after a glass of wine, or six.

Vanessa’s sprawled across their couch, head in Brooke’s lap. 

Brooke’s fingers are gliding like hot wires through her hair and Vanessa feels electrified. She nuzzles into Brooke’s touch, presses her face to her stomach and giggles; Brooke looks down towards her quizzically and Vanessa doesn’t stop the smirk that plasters itself across her face. 

She sits up clumsily, inelegantly, reaches for the television remote. 

A click of a button blankets the room in darkness and Brooke blinks, dazed. She groans lazily, makes an attempt to turn it back on. Vanessa tosses the remote to the carpet in the centre of the room so that she’s unable to do so and Brooke huffs indignantly. 

Vanessa turns to her with a grin. 

Her teeth gleam in the low light, and Brooke’s vision is blurry, but she’s not _stupid_. Vanessa has a mischievous glint in her eyes, has her lips parted sinfully. She licks across them with the tip of her tongue and tugs the swell of her bottom one between her teeth. She nibbles at it, and Brooke’s gaze is locked on them. 

It’s past two in the morning. 

The cars on the street outside pass in forgotten flashes of headlights. There are less of them than during rush hour but with each one that coasts along the road below their living room window, Vanessa grows braver.

She picks up her glass of wine off of the coffee table, encourages Brooke to take hers, too. She refills the both of them, and Brooke drinks half of hers down in a singular gulp. 

Vanessa watches her with what she assumes is pride, and flicks the lengths of her hair behind her shoulder.

They drape against Brooke’s arm, tickle her skin, and Brooke feels the sensation amplify with each second that creeps away from them. The tips of her fingers are buzzing, and it travels through to the pit of her stomach, her toes that curl into the blanket that they have splayed across the both of them. 

But Vanessa only takes a sip.

And then she places the glass back down. 

She hooks a leg across Brooke’s thighs, moves to straddle her. She rests her own thighs comfortably atop of Brooke’s, loops her arms slack around her shoulders.

Brooke feels barricaded in by all things Vanessa and grins in response, plants a firm hand on either side of Vanessa’s waist.

Vanessa squirms in her grasp, and Brooke chuckles. 

“What’s gotten into you, _hm_?”. Brooke narrows her eyes.

Vanessa’s shoulders rise and fall in a shrug.

“Been thinkin’”. She states simply. 

“About what?”. 

Brooke doesn’t pretend that Vanessa hasn’t sparked her interest. 

She’s staring back at Brooke with a drunkenness that’s obvious, possibilities that are endless. Brooke’s on the same page; her body is swaying even in her seated position and the impending hangover that she’s going to wake up with the next morning is already making itself present in the ache of muscles. 

Brooke lets her hands travel to Vanessa’s back, slips them beneath her shirt. 

“You drunk enough for this?”. Vanessa arches her spine. 

“Depends what you’re ‘gonna say”. 

Brooke teases like Vanessa isn’t still smirking blatantly above her. Her wine glass is balanced precariously on the arm of the couch and she glances at it briefly out of the corner of her eye. 

Vanessa tilts her chin back towards her with her thumb and forefinger, and Brooke feels goosebumps bloom on her arms. 

“You know I love you-“. Vanessa drawls.

“-Love you _so_ fuckin’ much”. She adds. 

Brooke knows that she does, because she loves Vanessa right back. 

She’s loved her for the three years that they’ve been together, and the year that they danced around each other before that. She’s loved her even before then, too, since Vanessa had walked into her office as an intern with a cup of coffee and a smile. 

It’s something that she’s never been able to shake. Loving Vanessa comes as natural to her as existing, and Vanessa makes it easy, easier than anything she’s ever had the pleasure of doing before. She tells Vanessa that she does with a peck to her wrist. 

“So tell me what’s been on that pretty little mind of yours”. Brooke coaxes. 

“You’ve ‘ _gotta_ tell me straight up if it’s a bad idea”. 

Vanessa warns her and Brooke nods her head. 

Waits.

“We should have a threesome”.

“What?”.

“Or a foursome, or-“.

“ _What_?”. Brooke repeats herself. 

Vanessa is still grinning. 

The smirk hasn’t left her face despite the hesitancy that’s now present in her eyes. Brooke knows that she’s drunk enough for her inhibitions to be near nonexistent but the uncertainty is still there, to an extent. Vanessa arches a hopeful eyebrow and Brooke scoffs, shakes her head. 

“That’s a _bad_ idea”. Brooke emphasises. 

“Why?”.

“ _Why_? Are you serious?”. She stutters. 

Vanessa’s looking at her like she’s everything but joking and Brooke has to centre herself. 

She inhales deeply, exhales raggedly, and digs her nails into the skin of Vanessa’s hips unwittingly. Vanessa shifts in her lap, hums affirmatively, and still her simper doesn’t quit. 

“I ain’t messing, Mami-”. Vanessa admits.

“-Think about it, think how god damn _hot_ that would be”. She continues. 

Brooke lets her eyes snap closed, and thinks about it. 

Really thinks about it.

Vanessa rambles aimlessly, and Brooke tunes out of the conversation at hand. She focuses on the thrum of her pulse, her heart that’s beating erratically in her chest. 

Her palms are beginning to sweat, and she wipes them on the fabric of Vanessa’s shirt. She feels Vanessa’s body tremble with laughter but doesn’t listen, not really.

She doesn’t listen, until Vanessa presses a finger to her lips. She drags it downwards, presses it to Brooke’s jaw and then lower. It caresses at Brooke’s neck, and then lands on her chest. Vanessa presses her hand flat to Brooke’s sternum, and Brooke finally, finally allows her eyes to meet Vanessa’s once more. 

“Ness-“. Brooke husks. 

“Shh, just picture this-“. Vanessa interrupts. 

Brooke gulps, but nods her head. 

Vanessa is nothing if not convincing, and she listens intently, this time, lets Vanessa’s words warm her skin further. 

They wrap around her wrists, scratch down into her lungs. Brooke has to clench her thighs together as Vanessa’s touch continues to wander and knows then that she’s fighting a losing battle. 

“-Imagine you, me, another hot blonde or two, ‘cause you _know_ that’s how I like ‘em. She could have me going down on her and you could fuck me from behind like I know you love. How’s that sound?”.

“Yeah”.

“And then, at the end of the night you get to have _just_ me, ‘cause I’m only yours, ain’t that right?”. Vanessa licks her lips. 

She weaves her fingers into Brooke’s hair, tugs so that their noses bump up against one and others. 

Brooke purses her lips and lets out a breath through her nostrils. Vanessa’s words are punctuated by a buck of her hips and Brooke holds her tighter, cranes her neck to meet Vanessa in a bruising kiss. 

Vanessa beams into it and Brooke acknowledges then that it isn’t a bad idea. 

Is far from it. 

“I know you’re into it”. Vanessa remarks. 

She reads Brooke better than Brooke’s able to read herself. 

Brooke shrugs, feigns nonchalance, but then finds herself nodding her head. She tells Vanessa that it’s a good idea, that she likes it, more than she should, and Vanessa tells her that she knows. She kisses Brooke through silent promises and hushed moans, cups her cheeks tenderly. 

“Is that a yes?”. Vanessa mewls.

“If-“.

“If?”.

“ _If_ it’s somebody we don’t know”.

“Alright”.

“And it only happens once”. Brooke adds. 

They’re in agreement, and Vanessa’s smirk finally falters. She looks down at Brooke earnestly, and Brooke _loves_ her. 

She’d do anything if Vanessa asked her to, but it’s made better by the fact that she wants it, too. It’s an intoxicating thought that doesn’t leave her mind for the next ten minutes, the next hour. 

Vanessa pours her another glass of wine.

And she drinks it gladly. 

*****

It’s new for them.

So they ask Yvie about it, naturally.

They call her with the courage of the wine that’s still in their systems, giggling and fumbling and curious. Because if anybody’s going to have experience with this, if _anybody’s_ going to know how to go about this, it’ll be Yvie, they decide. 

She answers with a laugh, and Brooke know’s that they’ve called the right person. 

“You want to what?!”. Yvie barks.

Her tone is incredulous, disbelieving. 

Brooke presses her face to the back of the couch and pulls Vanessa with her. They’re both laying down, Vanessa’s head on Brooke’s chest. Yvie’s voice blasts through the speaker of Vanessa’s phone that she holds limply in her hand, and Brooke’s head spins with the volume of it. 

“Me and B ‘wanna, _y’know_ -“. Vanessa starts.

“Have a giant fucking orgy, Yvie”. Brooke dramatises. 

Vanessa cackles into the crook of her neck, and Yvie is silent until she’s chuckling along with them. 

She laughs openly, and Vanessa explains herself once more. She tells Yvie that they have _no idea_ where to begin, and would appreciate any advice, albeit questionable, any information that she’d be able to give them.

Brooke thinks that they’re out of luck until Yvie is hushing the both of them, phone line crackling. 

“And you thought I’d be the person to ask about this?”. Yvie asks.

Brooke shares a look with Vanessa.

“Duh”. Vanessa rolls her yes. 

Brooke adds in an effected _obviously_ and Yvie clears her throat, sighs melodramatically.

There’s a beat, and then Yvie’s speaking up.

“Alright, what do you ‘wanna know?”.

*****

They don’t go out looking for it, but it happens. 

And Trixie’s glad that it does. 

It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last, but she’s drunk on tequila and the zing of lime, head spinning and inhibitions dwindling. Katya has an arm draped around her shoulders and Trixie’s head rests against her chest. The room smells like smoke, but so does Katya’s skin, and Trixie likes it.

Likes how the night is panning out.

She basks in how she feels when it begins minutes later, crosses her legs beneath the table.

They’re huddled in a booth, and there’s a tall, muscular blonde approaching them. Trixie watches as she saunters towards them confidently, eagerly, a smirking brunette tucked into her side. 

Their hips sway and heads tilt, and they slide easily into the booth opposite the both of them.

Trixie still watches from her position against Katya’s chest and gives them a once over.

And then repeats it.

She keeps looking, until the blonde raises a challenging eyebrow, and the brunette props her elbows smugly atop the table. They share a glance, and then so do Trixie and Katya.

Katya nudges Trixie discreetly, places a protective hand on her thigh.

Trixie grins in response and nods her head. It’s barely noticeable, is microscopic, but Katya picks up on it, and Trixie’s grateful. They both work their scrutiny over the two women once more; the blonde’s posture is stiff but certain, and the brunette looks at her like Trixie knows she looks at Katya.

They’re clad in dresses that couldn’t differ further from the other. They’re emblems of fire and ice in blue and red, the blonde’s reaching mid thigh and cobalt, and the brunette’s lava and _short_ , shorter than Trixie’s.

She pulls it down past the swell of her ass as she sits, shifts, but Trixie knows that it’s futile when she watches the woman relent with a huff. Trixie lifts her glass from the counter, a concoction of vodka and soda, and sips at it slowly.

The ice cubes are jarring against her teeth, but it’s nothing compared to the cold of the blonde’s focus.

There’s a cough, and the brunette clears her throat.

“Let us get you both a drink”. She drawls.

And she does it seductively.

Her hand reaches out across the table between them and comes to rest on Katya’s forearm.

Trixie’s eyes are all knowing, and she agrees with a shrug. She learns in the next handful of minutes that pass briskly that the brunette goes by Vanessa and the blonde by Brooke. Trixie thinks that it suits them, and finds herself giggling drunkenly.

“Is this what I think it is?”. Katya checks.

Trixie rolls her eyes because _of course_ it is. 

Vanessa leaves for the bar and comes back with two drinks in hand. She places them down with a fumbled elegance, directs them towards Trixie and Katya. Brooke welcomes her back with a kiss to her cheek, a hand on her thigh, and then they’re both concentrated.

“My and my girl ‘wanna have a bit of _fun_ -”. Vanessa grins.

“-You guys get what I’m sayin’?”.

Trixie gets it.

Katya gets it, too, but Trixie knows that she won’t give in as easily. She detaches herself from Trixie’s side, leans across the wooden table top with a smirk. Brooke mirrors Katya’s movements like they’re competing, and Trixie’s answer is already yes.

 _Yes_.

“What makes you think we’re into that?”. Katya questions.

Brooke narrows her eyes, and then rolls them, exasperated. She looks back and forth between Vanessa and Trixie, gestures towards them vaguely with a wave of her hand. Trixie knows that it’s obvious in both of their demeanours; Vanessa is hanging off of Brooke’s every word and Trixie herself isn’t far behind.

“Oh _please_ -“. Brooke scoffs.

“-I’m not tiptoeing around this”.

Trixie watches the exchange incredulously. Katya’s shoulders are tense beneath the fabric of her dress, and Trixie brings a hand to them, massages lightly. She draws the tension out of them with each dig of her fingers until Katya is pliant, smiling pleasantly.

Vanessa squirms into Brooke’s side and Trixie wishes that was her. 

_It’s going to be her._

“We’re not tiptoeing, she’s just stupid-“. Trixie laughs brazenly.

She blinks, and then continues.

“-So, our place or yours?”.

*****

Vanessa and Brooke have discussed ground rules. 

And they discuss them with Trixie and Katya, also.

They share a spacious cab back to Trixie and Katya’s apartment, encourage the driver to roll up the partition between them. They sit facing each other, much like they had at the club, only this time there’s no table between them.

No pretences, either.

Vanessa’s taken it upon herself to make her intentions clear. She’s folded into Brooke’s side, legs elevated and sprawled across Katya’s lap. Trixie strokes her shin idly and Vanessa trembles against her touch, breathes hot onto the shell of Brooke’s ear. 

“Been thinkin’ ‘bout this for so long”. Vanessa admits, shivering.

“You’re ‘gonna have a great time”. Trixie tells her.

Because she will, _they_ will.

Brooke chuckles, and Vanessa’s gone. She shares a look with Trixie who in turn nods to Katya, who turns to Brooke expectantly. Brooke hums affirmatively and it’s all of the go ahead that the four of them require.

The cab ride lasts for a gruelling ten more minutes, and then it’s over.

They’re stood in Trixie and Katya’s bedroom, Vanessa’s palms propped on her own hips. Brooke kisses her once for reassurance as Trixie and Katya fleet around the room, dim the bright overhead lights and ignite the Tiffany lamps that sit on each bedside table.

Vanessa clutches at the skin tight material of the back of Brooke’s dress, fists a hand in it and tugs her closer. Brooke lets her do so, and Vanessa uses her free hand to guide Brooke’s lips back to hers. They meet with a whimper as two hands become four, and then four become six.

Katya’s hands are gripping her waist from behind, and Trixie’s weave into her hair that falls in waves across her shoulders.

It’s moved to the side then, and there are lips on her neck, her jaw, her wrist. Brooke keeps their eyes locked, and Vanessa nods when Trixie and Katya are stood either side of her, freeing her body of the confines of her clothing.

She’s the first to sprawl across the bed, naked, and Vanessa likes it that way.

“We’re you starting without us?”. Katya husks.

Brooke hums, shakes her head no. Vanessa giggles because yes, they were, but neither Trixie or Katya need to know that. They’re both pulling away their own dresses to reveal coordinating red and pink underwear, respectively, and then Brooke’s the only one left standing in her heels at the foot of the bed.

“Just getting her comfortable”. Brooke tells her.

Vanessa watches Trixie’s eyes illuminate at the words, glee emanating from them. She mumbles _something_ , sentences that Vanessa doesn’t catch. She kneels onto the bed, crawls towards Vanessa with a smirk upon her face, and then it doesn’t matter.

“Maybe _I_ could help with that?”. Trixie purrs.

Vanessa looks on hopefully, seeks out permission in Brooke’s eyes. Brooke nods her head, a movement that’s small, imperceptible. Vanessa takes it as a yes regardless and stretches the muscles in her legs.

She reclines into the stack of pillows, props herself up against the headboard, and keeps her focus trained on the scenario unfolding in front of her. Trixie’s hands coax her legs further apart, curl dangerously around her thighs.

A whine leaves her throat at the short nails that dig into her skin, the breath that pants against her hip bone. Brooke is still stood at the foot of the bed and Katya is _somewhere_ , retrieving toys from a closet, but Vanessa beckons her closer with a crook of her finger.

And Brooke’s not one to deny Vanessa of anything.

She steps out of her dress once she works the zipper loose, but keeps her heels on.

Vanessa doesn’t tell her not to.

Instead, she laces her hand with Brooke’s as Trixie’s lips begin peppering kisses across her sensitive inner thighs.

She twitches, bucks her hips into the touch. Brooke lays herself down on her side next to her, cups Vanessa’s cheek tenderly. She strokes a thumb across Vanessa’s bottom lip, tugs it down when Vanessa’s breathing catches in her chest.

“That feel good, baby?”. Brooke teases.

Trixie stares up at the both of them with blown out pupils, watches Vanessa nod dumbly.

Vanessa feels like she’s dreaming, hallucinating, is on fire. Trixie’s slipping two spit slicked fingers inside of her, is enveloping her clit with her lips and Brooke is watching it happen. Her bones don’t feel like they belong to her body; she’s molten liquid between the two flames of women.

Katya strides back into the room, and Vanessa’s already writhing.

Trixie’s fingers aren’t as long as what she’s become used to with Brooke, aren’t as skilled as making her come. But they’re working, trying, and Trixie knows how to use her mouth. Her pillowy lips suck and lap at Vanessa’s clit with a practiced ease that’s admirable, and Vanessa grapes for something to ground her.

She lands on Brooke’s hand that’s still holding her cheek gently. She pulls it away, draws two of Brooke’s fingers into her mouth with a moan. Her tongue licks up the lengths of them, swirls circles on the tips as Brooke bushes them further. They brush up against the back of Vanessa’s throat and Vanessa’s never felt as wrecked.

As needed.

“ _So_ -“. Katya mewls.

Trixie pulls her mouth off of Vanessa and Brooke retracts her fingers. Vanessa whines at the new lack of contact, searches for any ounce of friction that she’s not going to get just yet, she knows.

“-I think these’ll be good”. She states.

She nears the bed, and then drops the contents of what she had been holding in her arms onto it. 

Vanessa hears Trixie gasp before she registers anything else, and then acknowledges Brooke’s knee that nudges into her side. Brooke’s squeezing her thighs together at the toys that have been presented and Vanessa counts it as an achievement, a _big_ one.

She reaches out a hand, picks up one of the two strap ons that Katya’s still grinning down proudly at.

“I like this one”. Brooke confirms.

And _ok_ , Vanessa thinks.

It’s a lot.

 _All_ of it is a lot.

“You still cool with this?”. Katya checks.

But Vanessa sees it as a challenge, one that she’s able to take.

 _Probably_. 

She nods her head, certain. Katya beams and so does Trixie, but the look in Brooke’s eyes has grown primal, tells her all that she needs to know. Brooke stands abruptly, adjusts and buckles the harness around her waist. Katya does the same, and Vanessa waits not so patiently along with Trixie, busies herself with kissing the swells of Trixie’s breasts.

Vanessa gives Trixie’s nipples the same treatment that she had given Brooke’s fingers. Her tongue flicks across one as her fingers tweak and pinch the other, and Trixie makes herself comfortable in what was once Vanessa’s position.

She reclines against the headboard, and asks, tells Vanessa that she expects Vanessa to eat her out to the best of her abilities whilst she gets fucked, even if she’s squirming and panting, whining because it’s too much. She can predict it all unfolding like a sixth sense.

Vanessa still feels like she’s dreaming.

She’s watching Brooke and Katya kiss one and other, lips bruising and hands groping. 

They both have their strap ons fixed around their waists and thighs, and Vanessa feels her cheeks flush at the sight of it. It should be obscene; the two silicone dicks brush occasionally despite the height difference between Brooke and Katya, but Vanessa thinks it’s the most alluring thing she’s ever seen.

It’s hot.

Stupidly so.

She thinks the same minutes later when Katya lays back on the mattress, lets Vanessa straddle her with thighs that refuse to stop trembling. She leans across the shorter blonde as she lubes up the strap on, begins eating Trixie out like Brooke whispers commandingly in her ear.

Vanessa’s breasts press to Katya’s lips due to the angle, but Katya knows what she’s doing, too. She grazes her teeth across her nipples that are painfully hard, leaves them glistening with spit once she pulls away, coaxes Vanessa down onto her strap on with firm hands on her hips.

“Ride me”. Katya tells her.

She’s pooling wetness between her thighs, and she sinks down onto it effortlessly.

all that she’s able to focus on is pleasure pleasure pleasure. Vanessa’s mind is blank, devoid of anything outside of the three blonde’s that surround her from every direction. Her thoughts are empty -

\- But she’s never felt fuller.

*****

Brooke watches Vanessa’s eyes roll back in pleasure, listens to her moans that reverberate around the room.

“Oh my _god_ ”. Vanessa breathes.

“That’s it”. Katya grins.

Vanessa lifts her hips experimentally off of Katya’s strap on, and keeps her face buried between Trixie’s legs. She licks at her steadily, sucks firmly at her clit because Vanessa is good, and she knows it.

“God damn, you’re good”. Trixie chuckles.

Brooke knows it, too, but she also knows Vanessa’s body better than she knows her own.

It’s why when she drags herself out of her daze, the scent of sex already musky in the air, Brooke takes two confident steps forward. She kneels on the bed, finally sends her heels to the floor with a forgotten thump. Her hands plant themselves on Vanessa’s hips as she slams her hips back down onto Katya’s dick, and the moan that follows is nothing short of pornographic.

She whines high in her throat, toes curling against the rumpled bed sheets, and lifts her head briefly from Trixie in order to glance at Brooke over her shoulder. Her lips are swollen, glassy, parted in ecstasy. Her eyes and hair are equally as dishevelled, blown and dampened with sweat.

Brooke smirks at her, half in reassurance and half in promise that there’s more to come. 

Vanessa grins right back, and then Brooke’s reaching for the discarded bottle of lube.

“Be good for me, _yeah_?”. Brooke chastises.

She keeps one hand on Vanessa’s waist and uses the other to lube up her asshole, presses one, then two fingers inside of her. She eases them, and then scissors them tactically. Vanessa reminds her with a grunt that she had prepared in the shower before heading to the club but Brooke keeps up her ministrations regardless.

“Hurry up, _please_ ”.

Vanessa rocks her hips, slowly.

She lifts them, up and off of Katya’s dick once when Brooke’s fingers slip out of her. Her movements still when Brooke brushes the head of her strap on against her hole, and then push back once more when Brooke is half way in.

It’s at that point that the blood in Brooke’s veins surpasses boiling point.

Vanessa is beneath her, writhing against Katya who’s looking up at the both of them with hooded eyes and laboured breath. Trixie is coming apart beneath Vanessa’s tongue and in turn Vanessa is coming apart because of _all_ of them.

Brooke pumps her hips once, and Vanessa’s jaw goes slack. Her tongue becomes loose, near useless against Trixie’s clit, and she grips at her thighs when they become her only tether to reality. She’s quivering, shuddering, and Brooke thinks that it’s the most fucked out she’s ever witnessed Vanessa.

Almost.

“ _Fuck_ “. Vanessa pants.

“You like that, don’t you?”. Katya teases.

Brooke doesn’t need to wait for Vanessa’s response to Katya’s question, because she already knows. Vanessa takes, takes some more, but she also gives. Brooke falls in love with the lewd side of Vanessa stretched open around both herself and Katya, and allows a whine to escape her own throat.

“She loves being filled”. Brooke remarks.

It’s so offhanded, so casual, but it catches Vanessa off guard. Her muscles of her spine tense, and then shudder, and Brooke works the tips of her fingers into the notches. Vanessa relaxes momentarily, but her calm within her movements only lasts until Brooke is thrusting harder, and Katya is emulating her pace. 

Trixie’s watching them with what Brooke assumes is awe.

Vanessa’s tongue has long since become obsolete against her clit, and she takes it upon herself to begin curling two fingers up inside of herself. 

From Vanessa’s position she’s able to both see and hear the stretch, and it’s what sends her to the edge. Brooke keeps her there with her hand that’s an anchor on her waist, the fingers that weave themselves into the roots of her hair. 

She tugs, so that Vanessa’s body arches like a bow. Brooke is the arrow and they’re a force to be reckoned with. Katya thrusts deeper, and Brooke follows suit, tilts Vanessa’s head to the side in order to gain access to her neck.

Her teeth leave behind marks, as do her lips when she sucks, glides her tongue across the forming bruises to soothe them. Vanessa’s eyes are closed, like they mostly always are in the seconds before her more intense orgasms, and Brooke perseveres.

“Tell us what you want, baby girl”. Brooke grunts. 

“Harder-“. Vanessa gasps.

“- _Harder_ , Mami, You’re both ‘gonna make me come”. She heaves. 

The words register with Katya before they infiltrate Brooke’s lust clouded mind. Her reaction is delayed, but it doesn’t matter when Vanessa is coming, crying out for Brooke and Trixie and Katya and god herself.

She clenches around the toys so sinfully, so prettily that Brooke doesn’t know what to do with herself.

“Fuck”. Brooke doesn’t know who utters it.

She still doesn’t know what to do with herself when Vanessa is coming down down down, wincing as she’s left empty, clutching down around nothing. Brooke’s the first to rid herself of the harness, but Katya soon follows. Their limbs fold together like intricate origami on the bed and somehow they’re giggling.

Katya nudges Brooke with her elbow but it still doesn’t quell the lightness in her chest.

“God-“. Brooke laughs openly.

“-You have some _real_ bad ideas Ness, but this one wasn’t one of them”.

Vanessa looks at her, bleary eyed and still shuddering with aftershocks.

“Tell me ‘bout it”. She snorts.

Brooke laughs again, giggles into the shell of Vanessa’s ear. Vanessa is pliant in her arms, and Katya comes up behind the both of them, praises Vanessa for being such a _good girl._ Trixie is still touching herself idly, building her orgasm that she’s still chasing. 

But Brooke is sated.

So she kisses Vanessa.

And then kisses Katya and Trixie, too.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know your thoughts?? sure!<3


End file.
